


Knar

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Alpha Derek Hale, BDSM themes, Bottom!Derek Hale, Bottom!Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Carpenter!Derek Hale, Dom!Derek Hale, Edging, Established Relationship, Eternal Sterek, Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, Explicit Sexual Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Feels, Helpful Werewolf Elders, I do not consent to those under the age of majority viewing my explicit works, Kink Exploration, Knotting, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentions Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, One sided others/Derek Hale, One sided others/Stiles Stilinski, Orgasm Denial, Porn, Power Swap, Pre-established Kink Negotiation, References to Knotting, Safewords, Scent Claiming, Scent Marking, Schmoop, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is Alpha Bait, Stiles is a shit sometimes, Sub!Stiles Stilinski, Surprise Knotting, Surprise Werewolf Heat, Teacher!Stiles Stilinski, Top!Derek Hale, Top!Stiles Stilinski, Versatile!Derek Hale, Versatile!Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek Hale, Werewolf Lore, deputy!Derek Hale, knotting porn, light BDSM themes, not mpreg, werewolf convention, werewolf heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: Derek had not had a clue that this was something that actually existed.Five times Derek knotted Stiles, and one time, well. You can see what's going to happen here, right?.





	Knar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samanthahirr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthahirr/gifts).



1.

Derek didn’t really feel it at first. Stiles was hot and tight around him. They were so, so close, and the moment they were sharing concentrated his appreciation of how perfect they were together. It made Derek that much more aware of everything Stiles had ever been to him, and given that he’d almost died, Derek just didn’t notice.

It was Derek who’d almost died, that is.

-

Finding out goblins existed had been a shock. The goblin horde they’d accidentally smashed their way into during training a couple of miles into the preserve had been a definite shock. The thirteen ginormous goblins defending the cave full of broken and half-dismantled electronics had been more of a shock. The fact that the filth in the mouth of a goblin, combined with the venom in their saliva was enough to take down even the strongest of wolves? That had been the most shocking thing of all.

That none of the baker’s dozen of creatures survived the mightily pissed-off Spark reacting to his Alpha-wolf boyfriend getting nearly eviscerated? That, well, that wasn’t particularly surprising.

Two days after witnessing the goblins melting into the earth, Derek had woken up to find that he wasn’t the only one who’d been damaged in the skirmish. Jackson and Erica had spent a full day delirious, and Boyd and Scott had both taken major hits. The latter two were healing well, but still asleep when Derek had finally come out of his own fog.

Lydia and Deaton sent him and Stiles home because resting in the familiarity of their den, with their scents around him, would only help him heal faster.

Stiles was holding Derek’s hand when he woke up, and hadn’t let go of him, literally, since: Stiles had climbed over the seats to get into the car instead of going around the other side, held the door keys in his mouth as he picked up their mail on the way into the house, pressed his forehead into Derek’s neck when he needed to use both hands to get their pants off at the bottom of the stairs, so they didn’t track the dried-but-still-revolting mess on them onto the second-floor carpets.

Goblins had three long claws on each hand, and what was under them was every bit as dangerous as what was in their mouths. Derek was long since shirtless. The rips and slashes on his torso had apparently taken twice as long to heal as the bites on his arms. Stiles was still wearing everything he’d had on when they left the house for training the couple of days before.

Standing in front of the shower, with one hand testing the water and the other on Derek’s waist, Stiles made Derek slice his IronMan t-shirt off so he didn’t have to let go. He turned back, satisfied that the temperature was right, and used his wet hand to push down their shorts, finally.

Stiles washed every inch of Derek with focus and care, and when he’d decided that all was present and accounted for and working, announced that he needed Derek inside of him.

Derek, despite the fatigue that was returning and the tenderness in places he’d not known possible, had easily agreed. He was proud that they’d all survived such a vicious fight, and so very, very pleased to be home with Stiles. Stiles looked soft and fragile and strong and demanding as he tipped his chin up and told Derek that he needed him, that he wanted him long and deep, wanted to feel that Derek was alive and capable of anything.

Derek wanted to show him.

He looked into Stiles’ gaze and felt happy that he had another morning to look forward to with him, another day or month or decade or longer. Once he’d taken time to actually accept that what had been growing between them was not going away—not quite a year before—Derek had lost the urge he’d had to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. He had something so wonderful, so damn fine to live for.

Now, Stiles on his back with Derek moving inside him, he hoped again that there was a long time for them both to live. Stiles rolled his hips up and pulled Derek closer into the hot grip of his thighs and whispered again and again that he loved him, and couldn’t imagine living without him. He bit into Derek’s neck and moaned out that a thousand monsters would never be enough to split them apart, and promised that he’d follow Derek into hell and pull him back out again if it meant they could stay together.

It was hot and slow: grind as much as thrust, roll as much as slide. Stiles pushed up with his whole being, pulled Derek down with everything else. It got hotter and tighter and Derek lost himself in the task of making Stiles fly.

And then, he realized.

If he could have stopped he would have, but by the time his brain caught up to the fact that another thing that shouldn’t exist was happening, right there and then, it was too late to pull out without hurting his lover. He growl-groaned at himself: not even comparing his cock to goblins was making it shrink.

The Alpha Knar was, he’d always thought, a myth exacerbated by pop-culture fantasy. His mind rushed through a thousand scenarios and decided that it might, just, be something that only happened to born wolves. It certainly didn’t happen to other Alphas or Derek would have heard about it from Stiles. Stiles simply could not have _not asked_ about such a thing if he’d heard about it, and there was no way Scott wouldn’t have told Stiles if he’d developed what they’d likely call a wolfy-dick-situation.

Derek’s father’s sex talk had been early, and thorough. He might not have told his son about the Knar for a number of reasons, though. Derek couldn’t, especially balls deep in Stiles with fingernails gripping into his shoulder blades and heels digging into this lower back, think of what, specifically, could have had his Dad keep it from him. There had always been frank discussions in their household about sex and love, consent and conversation, and boys being okay as well as girls if that was what someone was into.

Maybe it was a full-shift thing? It had to be part of the reason Derek had never heard Peter or any of their cousins even joking about it. The full-shift wasn’t only rare, but it also usually skipped a generation, so there was no reason for his dad to mention it to him. But, with all the other things that they’d discussed…

Stiles rolled his hips up again and Derek’s focus was drawn back to the warmth of their bodies together, the sensations of hair and lube and slip. Everything was so much more tonight, the heat and wet and slick: condoms.

Derek wasn't certain why he and Stiles had used condoms for the first ten months of their relationship, but they had. The first time Stiles had climbed on top of Derek and demanded to be filled, he’d already had his lube-coated fingers in his ass and a condom packet edged between his teeth, and well. Derek had been far more interested in the feeling of Stiles’ hand around their cocks and the taste of Stiles’ skin under his tongue and the fact that they were finally doing what they’d been dancing around for years—going from tip-toeing around each other to eight-hundred-miles an hour in about ten minutes flat—so he honestly hadn’t thought about it. That there’d been a layer of latex separating one part of them hadn’t seemed a big deal.

It hadn’t come up after that. Derek knew Stiles knew that they didn’t need one. Derek knew that Stiles knew that he didn’t want to use one. Derek knew that Stiles didn’t want to use one either, but they just automatically did. Derek had never had, as Stiles so eloquently put it, cock-in-butt sex before being with Stiles. Stiles was a human guy who had experienced cock-in-butt sex with other humans, and automatically included condoms in that equation. Derek had always used condoms with women because, even if his dad had neglected to tell his son about knotting, Seb Hale had always been very particular about the idea of not springing a fairytale-monster-child on a girl that you might not be spending the rest of your life with.

Stiles bit a little harder into Derek’s neck, then licked and nipped his way up to Derek’s chin, scraping his teeth and trying as hard as he could to mark Derek, trying to leave evidence that he was there, and by the way his words moved from sexy rambling to an actual question, trying to get Derek’s attention, too.

“Babe,” Stiles pushed his heels into Derek’s back a little more. “Are you with me? You feel amazing, you know. This is perfect. Just what I needed. I’m so glad you’re with me.”

Derek was torn. He couldn’t lie about what was happening, or brush it off as a conversation they could have later. He whispered out, “You always feel perfect to me, Stiles,” and then swallowed the idea that there was more to be said for just a moment extra. He thrust his hips in tiny in-out motions and took a kiss from Stiles that was deep and wet.

Derek growled into their chests. All his senses were on full alert, his wolf trying valiantly to claw its way to the surface: he could smell every little thing that they’d touched today, hear the way Stiles’ left lung was a little weaker than the other, feel the way Stiles favored his right leg even as he was using them to get Derek to fuck him closer. Most of all he could smell Stiles’ want, his need to be with Derek, his need to take and give and be taken.

The desire was in the scent of Stiles’ sweat, the taste of his skin, the heat of his breath. Stiles smelled like he wanted to be with Derek forever. It wasn’t the first time Derek had smelled it, but this? This was the brightest and purest it had ever been.

It was strange and wonderful. Derek knew what it felt like to be inside Stiles, and what Stiles felt like inside him. He knew what moving his hips one way or the other would do, how it would make Stiles moan. He knew what they smelled like together, and what they tasted like together. Yet, this was so much more. His cock was not just thicker, but hotter than usual. The clench of Stiles’ ass was fiercer and more possessive than he’d ever known.

Stiles broke their kiss off to breathe, pulling long drags of their scent into his lungs. “Why haven’t we done it without a rubber before? This is fucking amazing. You feel so big inside me, Der. So fucking huge.” Derek’s fangs pierced his gums suddenly, and he was fairly sure his eyes were red. Stiles pushed his head back into the pillow. “You like that, babe? You like me telling you how big you are? How powerful you feel?” Stiles’ expression was cheeky, but still soft. “I love that I’m being taken apart by my Alpha. I love how strong you are, how well you fill me up.”

Derek managed a whine, and a barely enunciated, “Love you,” and his hips tried to snap back and time seemed to stop at the same time as the Knar caught.

Stiles’ body stilled and he blinked up at Derek, the wrap of his arms and his legs loosening. “Is that?” He squeezed his hole around Derek. “Myth. I thought it was. I mean.” This time he squeezed and wriggled.

Derek moaned and his fangs finished dropping. If it was good having his knot _inside_ Stiles, Stiles being purposefully active _around_ the knot was simply magnificent. But, they should have had the chance to talk about this. Derek froze. He was suddenly very aware that, even if he’d not known it was possible, he was definitely responsible for putting Stiles in a situation that he’d not consented to. Derek tried to turn his head away, tried to think of something that would make his cock shrink so that he could pull away, move back and apologize.

Stiles surged upwards and grabbed Derek’s mouth with his own, and his legs and arms clung tighter.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he mumbled against Derek’s fangs. He slipped his tongue back inside, carefully lapping at what he could, kissing with his eyes open and focused on Derek’s.

Derek relaxed a little and Stiles licked his lips as he separated their mouths again.

Stiles didn’t tease him when he spoke around his fangs. “I thought it was a myth, too, love.”

Stiles tilted his pelvis and rolled his hips and moaned when the extra girth of Derek pushed his cock to the right angle. “It doesn’t feel like a myth.” He did it again, and Derek had trouble keeping still. “Legendary? Yes. Mythical? Definitely not.”

That sparkle in Stiles’ eyes was what Derek needed to see. He lifted one hand from the mattress and cupped Stiles’ jaw. “You’re a menace, Mischief Stilinski, and I love you so fucking much.”

“And I love you, Derek Hale. And I’m really fucking happy I’m the one that got to discover that there’s a little more of you to love.” This time his hip roll was definite and practiced. Derek could come without ever using a muscle when Stiles moved like that. “I’m pretty sure I know at least some of what you’re churning over in your head right now, and this is me completely, and wholeheartedly, on board with being knotted by you, okay?” He waited until Derek nodded, and smiled again. “My knowledge of this is limited to speciality-dildo-stores and Supernatural fanfic, to be honest. I remember seeing something in an actual text once, but not what it said.”

Derek pushed his palm into the underside of Stiles’ jaw, tipping his face up so they could kiss again. It was soft and saccharine and seemed incongruous with the fact that they were tied together because of an obscene bulge in Derek’s dick. Even though he'd thought he was reading mythology, Derek had taken his time to look at the text properly. “The Knar only happens when there is a deep and lasting connection. It signifies not only a stable relationship, but also a stable Pack.”

Stiles clenched around Derek’s dick again and pulled down with his legs so he could grind his own cock up into Derek’s belly. “Knar sounds so much more official than knot. But that’s what it is, yes? Porn says you should be taking me from behind, preferably on my hands and knees.” Derek felt his wolf rise again at the visual and he growled out loud and leaned his head into Stiles' neck. “Take that reaction as duly noted, big guy.” Derek couldn’t help it, he chuckled a little. “Oh, and the other important thing? Fiction tells me that you’re going to come over and over again, probably for several minutes, and I’m going to end up with a belly full of werewolf-come and smell like you for days.”

Derek’s hips snapped forward, trying to get himself deeper into Stiles. It wasn’t possible, but it was so very appealing. “There was something about being locked together for a while after in the text, but I have no idea how long.”

“Well, I’m all for all of that.” Stiles scent changed a little, and Derek lifted his head to see why. “I want you, Derek Hale. All of you, no matter the color of your eyes or the shape of your body. I’m so glad you’re here with me still. I’m glad you’re alive in our bed.” He pressed their lips together and demanded more as he took a deep kiss. “Now fuck me and knot me and fill me up with all the life you have inside, okay?”

 

2.

Derek groaned as his hips stuttered again, and Stiles nudged a little with his elbow so that they were both on their backs. Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles’ and used his legs to lift them both off the mattress a little. He pulled Stiles with him as he shifted his own ass higher in the bed to take advantage of the pillows. Stiles squeezed down around him and Derek sighed out as he felt his knot empty the last it had left, finally everything it had to give, into Stiles.

Stiles turned his head and lifted one shoulder so he could reach Derek’s mouth. He licked more than kissed, but Derek understood the sentiment exactly. He settled back, comfortable with his Mate in his arms, and planned on just letting himself drift.

“Feel better now, babe?” Stiles sounded entirely too awake.

It had been a long evening, and a long, deep fuck, and Derek wanted to sleep.

“Better than what?” he managed to mumble into Stiles’ skin.

“Do I smell like us again?” There was a smirk in Stiles’ voice.

Oh. Derek thought his little fanged display of dominance over Marty—a handsome, young Alpha from a big, rich Pack in Montana—had gone unnoticed.

“He was all over you.”

Stiles put his arms over Derek’s, and splayed his fingers out wide over Derek’s hands. “He bumped me once, with his elbow.”

Derek was glad Stiles couldn’t see his pout. “Like I said, he was all over you.”

Stiles yawned and settled back a little, ass pushing into Derek’s pelvis. It felt good, but it was nestling rather than teasing.

“Obviously I’m proud of you. I know you don’t like parties or socialising in general, and I know you didn’t like Marty McWideChest. You did well.” Derek shivered as Stiles turned his head a little further and rubbed his cheek into Derek’s neck. “You were chatty with everyone, and you didn’t rip out the visiting big-wig’s throat.”

Derek knew he should smell a trap coming here. Stiles was never backwards in coming forwards with his opinions and that included praise. Yet, he only repeated himself like that, emphasized a thing so specifically, when it was leading up to something he wanted.

Derek was tired, though, and all that didn’t quite come together in his mind quickly enough for him to get out a forced snore or two.

“You did so well tonight, like a regular social butterfly. I think it’s finally time for us to have another yard party.” Stiles breathed in and then licked his lips, and Derek really didn’t know if he could fake falling asleep in the five more seconds he had before… “Just us, the Pack, my dad, a few firefighters, a couple of the people from the station—”

That woke Derek up. “A few firefighters?”

“Yeah, come on. They’re practically your coworkers, Deputy Hale. We should be more sociable.”

And with that, Derek figured out where this was really going: Lieutenant Dickwad.

He shifted his hips a little to the left, just to test how much longer they’d be tied. He resisted growling, but not the snap and snarl rising in his throat. “Well, as long as I can pick which firefighters it is that you invite into our home. You wouldn’t want the wrong sort to walk into an Alpha’s den and suffer the possibly disfiguring or even fatal consequences, would you?”

Derek couldn't see Stiles cringe, but he could imagine it. “Cora has been seeing Josh for almost two months, Derek. It’s time we were introduced.”

“We don't need introducing. I’ve met the guy. You’ve met the guy. I have no desire to see him anywhere near my sister. I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t accidentally be forced to tear his arms off if I saw him touch her.” Stiles was still, and looking straight ahead. “And, I refuse to talk about it anymore while I’m locked inside you. And I’m pretty pissed that you decided that us being like this, one of the most intimate things we can share, was something you could use against me.”

Derek took a deep breath and held it a few moments, and felt his anger deflate. Stiles smelled more than sorry.

Stiles took his own deep breath and squirmed, trying to shift so that he could look Derek in the eye. It didn’t really work. He sighed and bit at his lip so hard that Derek could hear the drag of teeth against skin.

“Okay. When I can turn around and look at you properly, I’m going to repeat this, but.” Stiles’ scent changed from sorry and distressed to that perfect combination of focused and determined that Derek had fallen in love with. “I feel like a complete dick. I obviously badly underestimated how much you dislike Josh. Yes, I thought I could sweet talk you into agreeing while you couldn’t get away from me. I was even going to throw in a morning blowj for every day between now and when we had the party to try to seal the deal.” He turned his head back and tipped it up a little. “But if I’d realized it was so serious, I… I really thought it wasn't that big of a thing.”

Derek didn’t want to discuss just how much he hated Joshua Meechum and his relationship with Cora while he was all wrapped up in Stiles. And, if it was anyone other than Josh-the-Dickwad, Stiles’ little honey-trap would have been fine. The daily morning-blow-job probably would have been more than enough to convince him.

“How about we settle on a morning blowj every day for a week as penance for you being a complete dick, and I explain my full opinion of the guy, and the reasons behind it tomorrow, after the first one?”

 

3.

Derek always found waking up on a Sunday a pleasant feeling. The fact that he was waking up on a Sunday with his significant other grinding a very hard, very wet cock into his ass made it even more pleasant than it would otherwise have been. Not that the arrangement was particularly unusual.

Derek let a happy sound rumble out of his chest and Stiles kissed at his neck.

“You’re finally awake, then? I thought I was going to come all by myself.” Stiles slid his dick in between Derek’s ass cheeks. “I was starting to look forward to it, actually. I love the idea of coming all over you.”

Derek liked that idea too, but today was the first time in more than a month that they had the whole day to themselves: no plans, no tasks, no visitors, no odd jobs. There was something they’d been meaning to get around to and, frankly, why just have ordinary Sunday morning sex when they could have more?

Derek rolled forward and right round, then leaned in to take a quick kiss as he reached down and moved Stiles’ hand off his dick. “Let’s have a shower.”

Stiles kissed back enthusiastically, twining their fingers together and chasing Derek’s mouth with more kisses as Derek tried to pull away, mumbling, “Come first, then shower,” as he swooped his tongue deeper inside.

Derek almost relented. But, no. He had a plan. They’d talked about it, and now they had time, finally, to do what they’d discussed. He moved away from the kiss sharply, and hoped he could pull this off. “Shower first. Green?”

Derek seemed to have gotten the delivery right. He thought there might be some hesitation in the answer, but Stiles’ whole body went taut and his dick twitched between them.

“Green.”

Stiles licked his lips at Derek, and Derek wondered what exactly was going on behind his wide eyes. From the first breath Derek had taken after he woke the room had smelled like sex, but now the scent was palpable, almost alive in the air.

“Good, love. We didn’t talk too about much about when we wanted to do this. I,” he licked his own lips and flared his nostrils. “Remember, while we’re in the scene, you’re mine to do with as I please. If I give you choices, you will answer me truthfully. I’ll stop what I’m doing if you lie, or say yellow. I’ll move away immediately if you say red. But I will not change what I’m doing if you say _don’t_ or _stop_. Do you understand?” Stiles nodded. “I need to hear you say it, love.”

“Yes,” he lifted one leg to wrap his foot over Derek’s ankle. “Yes, Sir.” His eyes were practically sparkling. They’d discussed the idea of hard limits and situations and actions they thought might turn them on the most. For Stiles one of the biggest things was handing over near-complete control, trusting that Derek could and would know just what to do to get them both off best.

“Good. Now, up and into the shower.”

Stiles enthusiastically scrambled out of the bed, a mess of limbs and flailing. He’d grown into his body over the years—wide and strong and solid—but sometimes Derek could see the boy he’d been before all that had happened.

Apparently that boy had stumbled on a lot of information about BDSM way back when he was first trying to comprehend just what dominance and submission meant in werewolves. He hadn’t acted on his interest in the years in between, though. Derek had dabbled a little in New York, but that had usually been as an observer rather than a participant. Stiles mostly remembered reading about ropes and cuffs and whips. Derek had no problem with those, in fact he looked forward to being on both ends of them, but he’d decided to start with something that needed far less new equipment.

Derek stroked himself under the spray and watched as Stiles did as he was told and cleaned himself inside and out. He praised Stiles, then dropped to his knees and sucked Stiles’ whole length inside in one go. Derek bobbed his head and cupped Stiles’ balls and just as he felt them pulling up, stopped.

“Do you want to come in my mouth or on my knot?” He looked up at Stiles, knowing exactly what answer he was going to get.

“Your knot, Sir.”

Derek tried not to smirk as he placed a kiss in the vee above Stiles’ thigh and stood. He quickly dried them both off and then led Stiles by the hand to their bed. He cupped Stiles balls again and ran fingers up his still hard cock.

“These are mine, only I can touch them. Now, get on your hands and knees, love. I’m going to sit over there and watch you get your hole slick and ready, and then you’re going to sit on my cock. Green?”

“Green.” Stiles reached into the drawer for the lube then kneeled on the edge of the bed, one forearm flat to support him, toes hanging off.

Derek settled into the chair at the side of the room and stroked his dick a couple of times. He stopped once Stiles had lube on his fingers.

“One finger to start. Only your hole, love. Everything else belongs to me.”

Stiles looked Derek in the eye as he started to reach between his thighs, but faltered, apparently realizing that if he did that, he’d basically be rubbing his cock and balls at the same time. He dropped his eyes and changed direction, pushing himself up on one hand and reaching around the back of his leg instead with the other.

“Good, love. Well done. Now. One finger, slowly. I want to see it moving smoothly before you go to two. I’ll tell you when you can change. You can use as much lube as you want.”

Stiles complied. He slid his middle finger down the crack of his ass and straight inside his hole. It was, of course, an easy entry, but Derek wanted to draw this out. He wanted to make sure Stiles knew that all the control in this moment was Derek’s. Derek reached down to his own balls and cupped them, rolling one and then the other as he watched Stiles’ finger disappear again and again.

Stiles glanced back over his shoulder and moved his hand faster.

“Too quick, love.” Stiles slowed. “Good. Now, try two. Keep it slow and even. I want you stretched and ready to take my knot.”

Stiles moaned and fucked himself on his two fingers. Derek stroked himself in time. When he felt his own need rising too fast, he stood up and stepped closer. He put one hand, flat, on Stiles’ ass.

“Now three.” Stiles’ head dropped further and Derek drizzled more lube onto his fingers as they moved in and out. The thrusts were shorter now, but Stiles was keeping to the same speed. The wet sound of the lube on and around his skin, though quiet, was obscene.

Stiles groaned.

“Are you close, love? Are you ready to come?”

Stiles flexed his fingers apart as he moved them. “Yes. Sir. I need to, yes.”

“Good, love.” He reached between Stiles’ legs and tugged Stiles’ cock down and up and down and watched him drip. He let go when he felt Stiles begin to tense. “Now, stop. Roll over and sit up.”

Derek reached down and kissed Stiles, plunging his tongue into Stiles’ mouth as he moved him where he wanted. Derek sat, leaning back on the bed, head on a pillow and knees high. He urged Stiles over him, and then onto his weeping cock.

Stiles whimpered as he slid down, bit at his lip as he settled. “You feel so good inside me, D—, Sir.”

Derek let himself smile this time. “And you feel perfect around me. I want you to lean back a little, use my legs to support you. Reach back and hold my shins with your hands.” Stiles shifted a little and his cock stood out from his body and wept. “Good. Now, I’m going to fuck you. You aren’t going to move. Green?”

“Green. Yes, please, Sir.”

Derek didn’t hold back. He pushed his hips up and slammed inside again and again. At this angle his cock was hitting Stiles directly over his prostate. Derek knew it felt good, but that it was too hard, too uncomfortable, for Stiles come.

Stiles cried out over and over, his dick swaying and hands gripping Derek’s legs tighter and tighter.

Derek focused on getting himself off as quickly as he could. He felt his cock starting to thicken at the base, but only barely. He’d fairly quickly figured out how to control the Knar, just as with any other part of the shift. So, not only could he be the fucker as well as the one getting fucked if they slipped off for a quicky, but, right now? Right now it meant that he could show Stiles just who was really in control of this situation.

He felt his fangs start to itch, and his balls lift higher and he came, hard, growling as he did. He’d forgotten just how much he liked being the one in charge like this.

He sighed out and let himself relax into the bed, then dragged in a lungful of arousal and confusion and frustration before he said, “You’re always so fucking tight, love, even when I don’t knot.”

Stiles opened his mouth to retort, but stopped without any sound having come out. He squeezed his ass around Derek’s wilting cock. “You said you would.”

Derek tipped his hips back so that he could pull out. “And I will. I just didn’t tell you when that would happen.” Stiles eyes widened, and his scent shifted to include something Derek knew as fascination or intrigue. “Green?”

Stiles kneeled up a little higher, dragging his hands up the front of Derek’s calves as he did. “Green.”

“Good, love. I’m going to go and get a cloth to clean us up with. When I get back, you’ll be belly up, knees up, a pillow under your head and your arms stretched up above it. You’re going to keep your back flat on the bed unless I lift you. You will not touch your cock or balls or nipples or anything else that might help to bring you off. They’re all mine. Understand?”

Stiles nodded and climbed off. Derek took a moment or two in the bathroom to breath in and settle his heart rate. He was far, far more turned on by all of this than he’d realized he would be. He was just glad that Stiles was apparently, too. He washed his cock off and got another cloth for Stiles, then walked back out with his face set to something he hoped looked powerful, despite the fact that he felt slightly weak at the knees with Stiles presenting himself so well.

It wasn’t as if it was something Derek hadn’t seen before, Stiles’ legs wide and hole on display, but he’d never looked at it this way—with the eyes of a Dom—before.

“You look amazing, Stiles, all laid out like that for me. Did you touch yourself?”

Stiles gave an emphatic, “No, Sir,” and his heartbeat was steady. He shivered when Derek drew a line across his toes with one finger.

“Good, love.” With Stiles watching him, he leaned sideways and pulled open their toy-draw. “I’m going to wipe you down so you’re comfortable, then I’m going to play with your cock and your balls and your hole until I’m ready to fuck you again.”

Stiles didn’t wait to be prompted. “Green.”

Derek wiped him over, paying special attention to Stiles’ cock head, teasing at his foreskin carefully and, of course, pulling away just before it pushed him over the edge. Stiles bit his lip and pulled his feet in closer to his ass, presenting himself even more fully.

Derek couldn’t see any reason not to take advantage of that, so he grabbed one of their smallest plugs, one Stiles would have to work hard to hold in, and teased him a little. He licked around Stiles hole, tasting Stiles and him mixed together, and then slipped fingers in alongside the plug at the same time as fucking him with it. Derek built a steady rhythm, then dragged his tongue up in a long line up over Stiles’ sack and onto Stiles’ shaft. He swallowed Stiles down again and Stiles bucked and started babbling about coming, telling Derek he couldn’t wait, that he needed to and.

Derek pulled off.

Stiles panted a few moments, then almost spat, “What the fuck, Der?”

“Excuse me?” Derek tried to channel every leather-wearing, moustache-twirling, whip-wielding Dom he’d ever met.

Stiles, though flushed down past his nipples already, blushed a couple of shades darker. “I… Sorry, Sir.”

Derek leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips. “If you don’t like it, if you want me to stop or need to me stop, then you know what to say, yes?” Stiles’ pressed a kiss back to Derek’s mouth, but Derek didn’t let him follow as he stood back up again. “What’s your color now, love?”

Stiles flexed his hips. “Green.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s really fucking frustrating, but. Yes. Green.” He added a quick, “Sir,” at Derek’s raised eyebrow.

“Can you hold that plug in, or do you want one a size up?” Derek dragged his finger down past it and around in a circle or two, watching the way Stiles’ hole twitched.

“Are you going to spank me if I lose it?” His voice was deeper, but hitched on the last word as Derek flicked the bottom of the plug.

Derek tapped against the base a few more times and Stiles moaned quietly. “Not this time, love.” But, the way Stiles’ pupils dilated as he said it meant it was definitely something they would explore at a later time. “I want you full while I amuse myself a little longer.” And, despite the talk of wanting him well-stretched before, Derek actually wanted Stiles to really feel the size of his knot when he finally got it. A small plug would mean that Stiles was ready, but not too ready.

“I can hold it, Sir.”

“Good, love. You’re doing so well. I’m not done playing with you yet, though. Color?”

“Green.”

Stiles almost yelped when Derek put the bullet-vibrator against the underside of his cock head. He had it on the lowest setting; a nice, constant buzz. He dragged it down and then up again, watching and loving the fact that each up-stroke made Stiles moan and his slit weep a little more.

Derek leaned down and, clicking the vibrator through to one of the pulsing settings—long short short, long short short—ran it up and down Stiles’ length, just short of his crown, and tongued and sucked on Stiles’ balls with the same pattern. It only took a minute or two before Stiles was begging to come, straining to not lift his hips off the bed, pleading with Derek to stop in one breath and then go faster with the next. Stiles was breathing hard and dying to thrust his hips and.

Derek pulled back, flicked the vibrator off and across the bed, then leaned back in to lap at Stiles’ sack to clean up all the saliva he’d left. The whole situation was making Derek literally drool. His fangs and claws were oh-so-close to dropping, and he realized with a shock, that for the first time since he’d mastered it months and months ago, he wasn’t going to be able to hold off his knot when he finally let himself fuck into Stiles.

He licked up Stiles’ thigh and belly and over his chest, and let himself luxuriate a moment in the thatch of hair in Stiles’ armpit. Derek then kissed across his Mate’s collarbone and up his neck. He kept his body high above Stiles’, but pressed their mouths together in a long, deep kiss.

He licked out of Stiles mouth and said as he sat up, “You’ve been so good for me, love. Just a little longer.” Derek slipped his hands under Stiles’ shoulders to lift him off the bed.

Stiles nodded and let himself be moved. He was compliant and almost floppy, but smelled frustrated and almost to a point where he might snap if he was pushed too hard. Derek felt a moment of wonder that they’d both reached the end of their play-limits at basically the same time.

He arranged Stiles so that he was on his knees again, but with his torso up straight, his back to Derek’s front. Derek demanded another kiss, harder this time, only letting go when they could no longer bend enough to keep it full. He nipped at the corner of Stiles’ lips and pulled the plug out of Stiles in one, smooth movement. Stiles groaned, and Derek smelled the fresh rush of pre-cum that spurted from his tip.

Derek dropped the plug next to them and picked up the lube so he could get his own cock ready. His knot was straining, he could already feel the extra stretch in his skin reaching down to his balls and up to his belly. He steadied himself with one foot on the floor and one knee on the bed.

“Hands on the top of your head, love. No touching what’s mine.” Derek held his dick steady and urged Stiles forward a little with the other hand and slid inside with the same smooth stroke he’d used to extract the plug. He breathed in to calm himself, then wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, pulling him in close.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles sucked in air hard as Derek begin to thrust and his knot begin to grow. “Fuck. Sir. Yes.”

Derek shifted the leg he had up on the bed and focused on rolling his hips more than just pounding in as hard as he could. As much as his body was telling him to, telling him to take what he wanted, to leave his mark, to bite the neck in front of him, he couldn’t. He needed to get Stiles there first. His fangs pierced through his gums, fully, and he pulled Stiles even tighter so he could wrap his fingers around his own wrists in case his claws popped too.

He needed to concentrate on Stiles.

“Come on baby, I want to hear you come. I want to feel your whole body twitch and shake.” Stiles could get off untouched far easier than Derek. And, given that Derek had taken him to the edge again and again it shouldn’t take much to get him over it right now.

The angle was perfect; Derek’s cock rolling over and around Stiles prostate but not hitting it directly.

Stiles started to moan, softly, and his hands started to slip in his hair.

Derek slid his teeth to the tender flesh behind Stiles’ ears and started whispering, “You’re fucking perfect for me. Can you feel me getting bigger already? Can you feel how much I’m already dripping? I can’t control the Knar, Stiles, you’re too good. My fangs have dropped, my claws are out, my eyes have changed.” He rolled his hips again, then tried to thrust, but couldn’t. The extra width at the base of his cock was making the angle even better. The tiny range of movement he had in and out was enough.

It felt more than amazing; the heat and wet and pressure around his cock, the smell of Stiles’ arousal even now still growing, the whimpering and babbling that Stiles was now letting fall from his mouth. Derek twist-thrusted back the other way and Stiles almost screamed, crying out for Derek to stop, to, “Please let me come,” but, “green green green,” and, “fuck it’s too much, stop, babe, Touch me. Fuck. Green. Don’t stop!”

Derek managed to add, “You wanted to come on my knot, love. So, come. Come for me,” and Stiles did. He made a sound that Derek wasn’t sure he had a name for, then spurted so hard some of it almost landed off the bed.

The sight and smell and feeling of Stiles slumping in his arms pushed Derek over the edge, too. When the last of his orgasm subsided, and he’d kissed every inch of Stiles shoulder and neck that he could reach, he laid them both down on their sides.

“I hate you, Sourwolf.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

 

4.

Stiles kissed him softly and leaned back a little. He flexed his toes and reached his hands up and stretched, then flopped forward again.

“This thing really is freaking awesome, babe. Ten out of ten, A-plus, would bang you on it again.” He pressed his face into Derek’s neck and sighed out a little. He’d be snoring soon. Derek was glad they’d put the heater on, as there was no way he could reach even the corner of the blanket on their bed from here. “You’re a man of many hidden talents, Alpha Derek Hale, and I look forward to learning more of them. I still want to know where you got the plans for this thing from.”

Derek did nothing much more than hum, low and indistinct. A few moments later Stiles’ breathing lengthened and his whole body melted into dream-softness. Derek smiled into Stiles’ hair and considered the statement his lover had just made.

There were no plans of course, just a vague idea gleaned from a few dozen different pieces of fiction he’d read. He’d never admit which fiction, though. If he told anyone else there’d possibly be silent, judging faces and muttered comments about his suitability as a law-enforcement officer. If he told Stiles, he’d never live it down.

After their first experience with the Knar, they’d both set out to find out as much as they could about it. An embarrassed phone call or three, a trip to meet an Emissary in another state, and an eventual Skype call to a full-shift Alpha in Liechtenstein of all places, and they had all the official information they’d ever be able to find.

That, his memories of stories from his childhood, and the fact that he’d managed to learn to control it within a day or two of the conversation with Alpha Näscher? That should have been all that Derek needed. There was something missing, though.

One night, with Stiles at his dad’s, the novel he’d been reading finished, and the house empty of much else to do, Derek had given in and typed _Supernatural Knotting Fanfic_ into Google and hoped he wasn’t going to be scarred for life. He was annoyed at himself for not being able to alpha-up and ask Stiles which characters he liked best. He was very, very glad that Lydia had taught him about incognito browser tabs and cache clearing while shopping for gifts last Christmas.

Derek had read fanfic before, in his previous life. He’d enjoyed what he’d thought were often better versions of the shows he liked to watch. He’d read sex in some of the stories of course, but it hadn’t been his primary motivation. He definitely couldn’t recall ever coming across a story where Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill suddenly developed werewolf anatomy, but he had no doubt such fic existed. He had a moment’s indecision about who’d have the knot in that pair, and then wondered if they both would. Thinking about it made him shake his head. He decided to avoid anything about SG1 in his search results, just in case.

He’d clicked on something called _AO3_ —that hadn’t existed way back when—and navigated his way to the Supernatural section. He’d blinked at the number of stories under that fandom-heading, but eventually figured out how to narrow the search down. Consuming some of it would, he’d hoped, let him understand a little more of what Stiles thought about when he thought of knotting.

Six or seven stories in, Derek had seen mention of something called a _Knotting Chair_. It wasn’t in the next two short pieces. It was in the one after that. Fascinated by the idea, instead of just clicking onto the next Supernatural piece, he started searching for that phrase. He read stories in fandoms he’d never heard of and got exposed to kinks he didn’t know had names. He filed a few ideas away for later.

In the end though, most importantly, he’d found nothing more than a handful of indistinct descriptions of what he came to consider an elusive, fantasy, piece of furniture.

It was a piece of furniture he thought should be a real thing.

It had taken Derek three weeks of sketching and riding Stiles as often as he could to figure out what might work best.

He bought the wood and the tools, and thanked Laura silently for deciding that he’d benefit from signing up to adult-education carpentry classes when they were in New York. He found an upholsterer a couple of towns over who didn’t ask difficult questions, and was willing to bump him to the top of the queue for a little extra financial incentive. He had the fabric he wanted shipped overnight.

Derek got it finished just in time.

Stiles’ eyes had widened in wonder when he’d taken off his birthday-blindfold. He had run his fingers over the chair with a kind of reverence, and smelled of awe and shock and joy when Derek admitted he’d mostly made it himself. Stiles’ scent had changed to something entirely more lascivious when he’d read the snippet of Supernatural fic that Derek had printed out and slipped inside the birthday card.

Now, still supple and sleep-heavy, Stiles smelled sated and content. He snuffled into Derek’s neck and muttered something indistinct. He shifted in Derek’s lap and Derek’s cock and Knar decided that that was, despite not having completely gone down from round one, a sign that things could be heating up again.

Derek bit his lip in an attempt to stave off the need. Somnophilia was one of the kinks he’d learned the name of on AO3; they’d be having a discussion about it soon enough. He breathed in deep and focused on the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat and let himself drift away too.

 

5.

The Greater North West Gathering was, well, it wasn’t as horrible as Derek had feared it would be. In fact, once the first round of whispers in response to his name had settled, the whole thing had been more than bearable. The venue was half-indoors, half-out, thanks to the nature reserve themed retreat it was being held at. The other attendees were mostly Alphas and their families, or seconds. Their Packs were from as far south as San Bernadino and as far east as Butte, and were relaxed and friendly.

Derek had, a couple of times previously, been made to deal with visiting Alphas fawning over Stiles in Beacon Hills. There’d been none of that during the Gathering. Still, Stiles hadn’t taken issue with Derek wanting to scent him more often than he usually did, or his need to be in physical contact if they were in the same room. Derek put the urge down to the fact that despite no one being inappropriately friendly with his other-half, he hadn’t been around this many unknown wolves since he was a child. Stiles just squeezed his hand and whispered silly things about being ready to fight off all the offers Derek was obviously going to have from the clique of teenagers they’d caught talking about his ass. Derek had no doubt who’d win.

The first two days of the program had been good, but heavy. They woke on the third looking forward to a day of what was basically leisure activities. Breakfast came with a welcome surprise—one of the younger Alphas had decided it was finally time to introduce her toddler triplets to the camp. She sat back and watched them try to howl in delight at all the new people to scent and meet, and waddle between tables in the dining-room on fat little legs that couldn’t take them much more than a few feet at a time.

There was something about them that kept every wolf, especially every Alpha in the room, fascinated. Any baby wolf would make most Pack members coo—a fact that Erica and Boyd regularly took advantage of when they wanted a night to themselves—but there was, Derek decided, something extra in the smell of three strong, healthy, Alpha-legacy carrying cubs. He happily let them wipe their grimy little hands and faces all over his knees. Stiles found it hilarious, and adorable, if his scent was anything to go by.

The cubs’ great-great-grandmother, a woman who’d seen her own Alpha-legacy pass through the generations to get to them, rounded the little ones up an hour or so after breakfast and presented them to Derek and Stiles with a request. Derek hadn’t heard of it before, but he didn’t find it that strange when he thought about it a moment. The woman was tiny, of indeterminate-yet-advanced age, and oozed power in everything that she did. There was no reason for her to lie about such a thing. Gram’alpha Nicholsen, as she liked to be addressed, asked that Stiles hold each of the triplets in turn, for blessings and good luck. Their Pack had an emissary of course, but not a Spark. And, she informed them, promising access to their Pack library as compensation, that it was the alternate kind of magic made that all the difference.

The Nicholsens were a large, peaceful Pack. Refusal might have caused some minor issues, but, well, that was never on the table. Stiles didn’t have to be persuaded and Derek was proud that they could offer his literally-magic-touch. Derek and Gram’alpha Nicholsen snapped pictures of the three babies climbing on and over Stiles, and Stiles grinned and held in a yelp when the little girl accidentally skewered his forearm with a claw. The little one had kissed it better with a loud smacking sound, and then her two brothers had followed suit. Gram’alpha declared the drawing of blood a good place to call an end to the visit, and everything went back to the regularly scheduled Gathering program.

Mostly.

Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck and hoped no one could tell how much he wanted to drag his Mate back to their room and roll in his scent. He’d been feeling extra amorous since they stepped out of the car and got hit with the scent of dozens of other Alphas, but right now the need was intense. Stiles smelled like babies and perfection and sex. Derek nestled himself in behind Stiles and hoped that no one but Stiles could tell just how hard he was.

Stiles was talking to… someone. Derek could feel the way he was breathing and the vibration of his voice through their torsos. He let himself focus on the way that felt, and the heat in Stiles’ hands, and the firmness of his forearms against Derek’s and pulled his Mate in a little tighter. Derek couldn’t really hear the conversation Stiles was having. He thought on it a moment, and by smell more than anything else, as it was the only one close enough to taint Stiles’ scent, decided it was Gram’alpha again.

Derek rolled his head and pressed his cheek into the skin left exposed by Stiles’ t-shirt neck. There wasn’t much else he could think of that he wanted to pay attention to right now. There was an urgency to the Gram’alpha’s voice, he realized, but the why of it didn’t really register.  The hair on the back of Stiles’ neck stood on-end for a few moments, and Derek liked the way it felt against the skin on his face. The way it caught on his stubble was far more interesting than considering the phrases _scent-drunk_ and _Alpha-eyes_ and _better safe than sorry_ that were being bandied about before him.

Derek wondered why everyone in the resort wasn’t lining up to sniff Stiles, and why so many people were as near as they were anyway, and how he might manage to sneak Stiles someplace so they could be alone. The patch of skin that wasn’t Stiles' neck but also wasn’t his shoulder was looking and tasting more and more inviting by the moment.

It wasn’t until a door clicked behind them that Derek realized Stiles had snuck them away from the rest of the Gathering. Derek might not have planned for it to happen, but there was no reason to not take advantage of his good fortune. They had a whole cabin to use. It would have been small if they had children, or other Pack members with them, but for two people it was more than generous. Derek pushed aside the idea of anyone else, even Pack members, being with them, and started licking long, wet stripes up the side of Stiles’ neck.

It wasn’t enough, though, so he slit the t-shirt’s neck-hole wider with a claw, dragging it along and down over Stiles’ shoulder.

A lick over Stiles’ scapula and up his nape was far, far more satisfying.

“Whoa, big guy.”

Stiles turned in Derek’s arms, and Derek worried a moment that he might have scratched his Mate with his claw. He sniffed for blood and felt for pain, but there wasn't any. Satisfied he hadn’t maimed Stiles even a little, Derek took his new angle of attack into account and started nibbling on Stiles’ clavicle with fervor, concentrating on the little line of three moles that was clustered right in front of his mouth.

“Derek.” Derek licked up and concentrated on the front of Stiles’ neck as it moved with each word. “Babe, that feels awesome. But we need to talk about what’s happening.”

Derek acknowledged the praise with a small noise from his own throat, ignored the idea of the too-hard thing—talking—and decided that the front of Stiles’ t-shirt had to go, too. Stiles squeaked as Derek started another slit, but that sound soon became a moan when Derek started into licking one of his nipples.

“Fuck. Okay, so I’m not really sure what’s happening. But, I don’t think there’s any reason for a one-hundred-fifteen-year-old woman to lie to me about needing to take you somewhere private. And, from what I can tell, she was bang on the money.”

Derek didn’t want to think about anyone but his Mate right now. He pushed the t-shirt down, enjoying the ripping sound it made as it finally separated from Stiles completely, and placed a flat hand over the other side of Stiles’ chest, savoring the feeling of the fluttering heartbeat as well as the sound.

Derek lifted Stiles up off the floor, which earned him another squeak, and took the two or three steps he needed to get them to the nearest soft surface. He wanted his Mate comfortable and ready. Derek reluctantly let go of Stiles’ nipple and flipped him over, laying him face-down across the arm of the sofa. He sliced down the sides of Stiles’ jeans and shorts, and flicked them and his own, similarly removed clothing into a heap next to them.

Stiles groaned and lauded Derek for his strength, babbling the same compliments over and over again. Derek’s Mate loved him, and gave praise easily and truthfully and Derek wanted to warm Stiles’ body as much as Stiles was warming his heart. He wasted no time spreading his Mate’s cheeks apart and licking into him deep.

Derek knew Stiles could come like this, he knew he could bring his Mate ultimate satisfaction with this alone. And, something deep inside him insisted, if he did that, Stiles would have another reason to consider Derek worthy of him. He’d have another reason to let this happen.

Derek half-shifted, letting his tongue morph into something a little thicker, more powerful, and started fucking Stiles with it, curling it just right to find what would bring Stiles the most pleasure. He was licking and snuffling and thrusting, and his saliva was thick and strong and slippery. Derek edged fingers inside, each side of his tongue.

Stiles cried out Derek’s name when he came, body taut and hot and his come spilling mostly into the hand Derek had managed to slip around just in time. Derek sucked his Mate’s seed into his mouth greedily, lapping up every last morsel. He pulled his other fingers from Stiles’ ass and lined himself up, cock prodding at the open, inviting hole, but.

“Stop! Derek, please.” The last word was a little desperate. Other than that, though, Stiles sounded well fucked out and very much sexually satisfied, and Derek wasn’t sure why he’d been told to stop. He did though, because his Mate told him to. “Babe, that was fucking amazing. Unexpected, but amazing.” Stiles twisted over on the sofa, softening cock coming into view.

Maybe that’s what he wanted first? Derek growled a little, annoyed that he didn’t think to clean his Mate properly, then bent forward and sucked Stiles’ cock gently into his mouth, laving at it carefully until he couldn’t taste anything more of the come that had been there moments before.

He looked up, hoping to see approval on his Mate’s face.

Stiles was smiling. “Thank you for that, but it’s not actually why I asked you to stop, big guy.” He started to prop himself up a little, and Derek put an arm under him and lifted. Stiles got his feet flat on the floor and said, “We need lube.” He put his hand up to Derek’s face and patted at where Derek’s saliva was starting to turn sticky and gel into his stubble. “Your tongue and fingers and spit are very talented, and have me very much wanting. But, there’s no way you’re fucking me without knotting me right now, huh?”

Derek nodded enthusiastically and managed to get his tongue around something that hopefully sounded like, “Want”. He pressed his face into Stiles’ hand and thrust his own hard cock forward. He could feel the Knar beginning to grow already. He needed to be inside Stiles, soon.

“That’s perfect. I want you to do that, really. I want you inside me. But, we really need lube, babe. Something’s telling me you’re going to like the smell even less than usual, but, I figure you’re with me enough to understand that if there’s no lube, there’s no fucking.” Derek couldn’t help the whine that crept out of his throat. Stiles patted his cheek. “I know, but you don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

Derek swallowed the way that idea made him feel—guilty and horrified and not-worthy—but his Mate was smart, and could see it in his eyes anyway.

“Of course you don’t. So, you should pick me up and take me to the bedroom with your big, strong, wolfy-muscles. Then, lube first, knot second, yeah?”

Derek nodded again and pressed his face into Stiles’ neck and hefted him and they moved. He put Stiles on the bed and got the lube from one of their bags, and when he turned back Stiles was on his hands and knees, legs wide, soft balls hanging between his legs and looking over his shoulder.

“You’re going to feel so good inside me, babe.”

Derek growled and fumbled with the cap on the tube, twisting the whole thing off instead of clicking it open. He knew that wasn’t right, but he didn’t, at this point, really care. He poured some of the chemical slick on to his hand and dropped the tube. He coated his cock and slid his fingers into Stiles a few times. Stiles shivered at the gesture, but dropped his chest and shoulders to the bed and stuck his ass higher.

Derek slid in and couldn’t hold back. He howled at just how good it felt, just how right it was, and in one, five, eight hard thrusts he couldn’t move any more. His claws popped and his fangs dropped and he roared as he came, enjoying every repeated spurt that left his cock, every drop of seed he left inside his Mate.

Stiles shifted a little under him, trying to turn them so they were spooned together on their sides, but Derek held him up, hum-growling under his breath, taking the weight of Stiles upper body so he wasn’t tiring him too much. Derek pumped his hips a few times once he felt his orgasm stop and slid free so he could bring his Mate off, too.

Stiles made a confused, but not unhappy sound, and muttered something to do with things being strangely quick. Derek focused on dragging his fingers back from where he’d been supporting Stiles’ chest, over nipples and over stomach and Stiles’ hard cock.

Derek flipped himself over and arched his back so that he could slip his head between Stiles still open legs and take Stiles’ cock in his mouth. He urged his Mate to fuck his face, take his own pleasure as he’d just allowed Derek to take his.

Stiles tasted bitter and new when he came.

Then, again, Derek’s Mate tried to turn himself to lie down on the bed, but. No. That wasn’t good. Derek needed him like this, and used his hands to, as gently as possible, make that understood.

“So, butt up, huh?” Derek’s Mate was smart. “I can do that. I’m going to need you to get me a bottle of water from the fridge and a wet cloth, though.” The noise of disappointment Derek made must have been louder than he thought. “Not to clean the come off me, babe. Just for my face, okay? I’m kinda hot and sweaty at the moment. I’ll stay like this, I swear.”

Derek could do that. He should do everything he could to make his mate comfortable. He went out to the fridge and got the bottle. He turned back to listen to his Mate as he heard him speak, but Stiles wasn’t talking to Derek.

“Thanks for the tip on moving quickly, Gram’alpha, but can you tell me what the hell is going on?” There was a pause. Derek was torn. He should do what his Mate had asked, but his Mate shouldn’t be talking to someone else. “That’s an understatement, but how? Why? I mean, we’ve got babies in our Pack, too.” Stiles belonged to Derek, but, that wasn’t right. Derek belonged to Stiles, too. “Yeah, we’ve done our homework, but we probably don’t know as much as we should about the full-shift thing.” They belonged to each other and Derek trusted Stiles, completely. “So I should just… really? I should say… Okay. Thank you. Yeah, give our apologies to everyone.”

The cabin’s phone clicked back into its cradle, and Derek remembered that he needed to get a wet cloth.

Stiles still had his face on the bed and his ass in the air when Derek got back to the bedroom.

“There you are, Alpha. I missed you.” Derek was conflicted. That his Mate acknowledged him as Alpha made him feel warm inside, but he couldn’t help it, he looked at the phone. Stiles smiled at him. “Don’t be jealous. I needed to ask someone if you were okay.”

Stiles shimmied a little as Derek nuzzled his ass, making sure he hadn’t lost any of what Derek had given to him. Derek looked at the bottle of water and the cloth and the way Stiles was situated and realized he wasn’t going to be able to care for his Mate properly from this angle. He put two fingers into Stiles’ hole so nothing could escape, and then turned him. Stiles opened the bottle and took a sip, and then made Derek do the same. Derek wiped Stiles’ face down with the wet cloth and Stiles’ scent bloomed into something closer to contentment. Derek glanced at the phone one more time. Stiles had told him not to be jealous and he wanted to do what his Mate wanted, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’re doing really well, Alpha. You’re taking such good care of me. I love you. I love being with you. I love having sex with you. I love being knotted by you, but there’s something kinda weird happening and I just wanted to make sure it was alright. I wanted to make sure we were safe.”

Stiles leaned up and kissed Derek softly, and Derek wondered at how he’d managed to find such a perfect, selfless Mate.

Derek chased the kiss as Stiles started to pull way. He knew he should be speaking about this, but he couldn’t. Words seemed impossible, simply too difficult, too hard. He was also hard, and Stiles was still slick and ready. They _should_ be talking, but they _needed_ to be fucking.

Derek started moving his fingers slowly in and out of Stiles, feeling the come he’d left inside him, enjoying the scent of him inside his Mate.

Stiles responded with a groan. “Right back to it, huh? Yeah, fuck. Please, Alpha. Get me ready again, get me wet. More lube, please?”

Derek still didn’t like the smell, but it didn’t drown out the scent of them together, and more importantly his Mate wanted it, so he did was he was told, then leaned in and started sucking and licking his Mate’s balls.

“That’s it, Alpha. You’re so good to me.” Derek licked up Stiles’ cock and started lapping at the head. “You know how to treat me right. Are you going to take me again, babe? Are you going to fill me up with your big Alpha knot?” Stiles rubbed his own nipples, pulling them high and pinching them pink. “I want to be full, Alpha. Full here, and full of your come.” Stiles squirmed away a little, putting himself back on his knees, presenting his hole. He flexed his muscles so that it would open and close and Derek could see and smell what he’d already done. “Stuff me full, Alpha. Take me, make me yours, get me round with your cubs.”

Derek’s heart was trying to beat it’s way across the room. He’d gone into full beta-shift now. The smell of them together, even with the chemical tang of the lube was perfect. Stiles smiled at him and Derek licked his lips of the saliva that was pooling and dripping out of his mouth. There was, he knew, something not quite right, but he couldn’t truly bring himself to care. Stiles was happy and inviting him in, inviting Derek to fill him with their children. His Mate was smart, he wouldn’t be doing that if they weren’t safe, so there couldn’t be anything really wrong.

Stiles reached back with one of his hands to tug Derek closer, and Derek went.

“Come on, Alpha. Get inside me. I need you to make me yours and knot me. You’re the only one who can do this. You’re the only one I want. Come on, breed me.”

-

Derek woke with Stiles dragging fingers through his hair over and over again.

“You with me again, babe?”

Derek frowned up at Stiles and sniffed and, oh. He felt his face heat as memories made themselves clear in his mind.

“I. We. Oh.”

Stiles grinned. “Yep. You fucked me good and full. Did your darndest to breed me round with your cubs, Alpha Hale.” He leaned in and kissed Derek on the forehead, it was soft and sweet. “Gram’alpha is an absolute gold-mine of information. Apparently, multiple Alpha-cubs sometimes have a particular effect on young, full-shift Alphas. The triplets’ scent combined with mine put you into a rut of sorts. It seems I convinced you that I was willing to carry your babies though, or we’d still be fucking.”

 

+1.

The night air was weighed-down with moisture and peculiarly still. Stiles’s stuffed nose meant he could barely detect the approaching summer storm’s sweet, earthy petrichor. He wondered how much stronger it smelled to the others, and just what else they might be able to sense with it. Lightning split the sky a few miles deeper into the preserve.

Forty-five minutes out here and the witch was really starting to piss him off.

Why the woman had chosen this clearing, in this forest, to have her little witchy-fit, Stiles really had no idea. They were absurdly close to the edge of town, no where near any of the lines of telluric currents, and several miles from the Nemeton. A tree, for the record, he’d made a pact with years ago, and thus wouldn’t have talked to this woman anyway.

Thunder emphasized the last part of the agreement Derek made with the witch, and Stiles tried very, very hard to not look impatient. He really, really wanted to get home. It was Thursday night and that meant—he glanced at his watch, it was eight-forty-two—he was missing NCIS reruns and snuggles on the sofa with his fiancé-since-last-weekend.

“Spark!”

Shit. He really, really should have insisted on sitting this one out. He’d had a rough week at school, and had finally succumbed to a slight case of the flu that most his students, and half of the town, had.

He tried to sound polite when he said, “Yes?”

The witch sneered at him and Stiles could see Derek stiffen. His other-half would be annoyed at him, but then again, it was Derek’s fault he was out here anyway. _You have to come and be our magical representative, love._ _It’ll be twenty-minutes at the most, love_. Stiles stared at the woman and hoped she couldn’t see what he was thinking about. _I’ll make it up to you with a bubble-bath and a back-rub, love_.

That last had clinched it.

“You’re undeniably powerful, Spark, but that doesn’t mean you can put yourself above the rest of us.” There was a slight lift in the wind, grabbing at grass and leaves on the forest floor. “Perhaps you should learn what it’s like to live a day in another’s shoes.”

That was—

It was predictable enough that he should have seen it coming and counter-cast something to protect himself and the Pack.

Instead, brain influenza-addled, Stiles bent at the waist, doubling over before his knees hit the ground and his guts twisted over a sixth or seventh time in the three seconds since the witch had spoken. The world spun and so did he, so he reached out and grabbed the ground with the hand he didn’t have wrapped around his middle.

Then the pain, and the queasiness, stopped. He breathed in, and his lungs felt clear and the storm smelled much, much closer. When he lifted his eyes the witch was gone.

He turned as he stood and realized Derek was on his knees, too. Scott reached out to the other Alpha, “Did she hit you too, man?” and put his hand on Derek’s shoulder and,

Stiles roared and put himself next to Derek in what felt like two strides, despite him being on the other side of the clearing.

Scott snapped his hand back and flashed his red eyes as he averted them in deference, and the other wolves followed suit.

Lydia lifted an eyebrow. “Disappointing. I’d have pegged her as one who’d use more imaginative curses.”

Stiles blinked at her. The others were moving now, but it was away from him and Derek. Stiles’ heart started to beat a little harder and his mouth went dry. He took a deep breath to try to calm his mind a moment and, woah. Derek smelled like freakin’ cotton candy and Reeces Pieces and sex and curly fries all at once.

Lydia’s heartbeat was smooth and slow. Derek’s was not.

“Woah.” He dropped to his knees next to Derek and leaned in and, woah.

“Derek,” Lydia had taken a step away, too, “other than the impact on your legs, are you okay? Are you hurt at all?”

Derek said, “No, I’m fine,” and Stiles felt the sound in his ears and the way it vibrated through his chest and out through his limbs and into his fingers and toes and onto his tongue. He could practically taste Derek’s words. He sucked in another long, deep breath, and wished he could taste all of Derek.

Derek’s heart rate started to slow.

“Good. Now, Stiles?” Stiles wanted to keep his nose right where it was, flush with Derek’s neck, but he relented and looked up at her. That was Lydia’s _I will take no shit from you_ voice. “Where is the best place for a stressed wolf to be?”

“In our den,” Derek supplied, and Stiles almost nearly lost himself in the sensation of the words travelling through his body again. Derek lifted a hand to the back of Stiles’ head and petted. “We need to get home, love. We’ll be safe there.”

“Okay,” was as much of an answer as Stiles could manage.

“I’ll put the others on a round the clock sweep of the boundary of your house. They won’t come too close, and no one will get in or out, Alpha.” Lydia was looking at Stiles as she spoke, and it suddenly made sense. She laughed. “There we go. We’ve been through this before. The witch said a day, so it’s probably a twenty-four hour cycle, or maybe a midnight to midnight thing. I get the feeling she didn’t realize Sparks use an anchor the same way a wolf does. She probably thought you’d lose control of yourself.” She snorted and turned on her heel, heading back to where their cars were parked, adding over her shoulder, “Text us when the spell wears off.”

Stiles pulled his head back from Derek’s neck properly and breathed in the night air around them. The petrichor tasted like life ready to spring forth, like power and summer and promise. In the next breath all of that was still there, but it was stronger.

“The storm’s coming quickly, or?”

Derek ran a hand down Stiles’ head one last time and rested it against the skin of his neck, just below his hairline. “It’s been building all night, but I doubt there’ll be too much rain. Can you taste the electricity? Tonight that’s stronger than the idea of life and and water.”

Stiles sucked in a longer, deeper lungful of air and concentrated on just what he was experiencing. “I, I think so? I want to call it power.”

Derek nodded and smiled at him. “Scott and I have discussed it, you know? What would happen if you needed the bite.” He ran his fingers over Stiles’ shoulder and down to his hand. “We knew you’d cope, but this is seriously impressive.”

Stiles leaned in again as Derek linked their fingers together. “It’s your wolf I have inside me, it feels…” It felt strange, and new, and still some how comfortable. “Familiar. And, you, you smell so fucking good, babe. It’s easy to concentrate on that. It’s… It’s all my favorite things, and.” There was something that was the same as the petrichor, but deeper. “What is that? Can I smell your wolf on your clothes, or is it something else?”

Derek tugged on Stiles fingers and turned them to walk towards the cars, too. “The thing that’s like the lightning?” Stiles nodded and Derek smirked. “That’s your Spark, love.” He used his other hand to guide Stiles’ chin away from his shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to Stiles’ lips. “As powerful as it is, and as right as it feels inside me, it still can’t help me see where I’m going. I feel a little blind, to be honest.”

That, well. Lydia had just walked confidently across the open space, but she was used to the eyesight she had. Derek probably felt slightly deaf and weak and, that was an awesome idea. “Can I carry you to the car, babe? Please?”

“I.” Derek quirked an eyebrow. “If you really want to?”

Stiles really, really did. “I really, really do.” One arm around Derek’s shoulders and one under his knees and Stiles felt like he’d picked up a four year old, not a 200 pound minor-Greek-god. If this felt this easy? Damn. There was so much he needed to do in the next twenty-four hours.

Derek seemed to know just where his thoughts were headed. “Wolf reflexes or not, you are not driving the Camaro. I just had it tuned.”

Stiles tried not to laugh too hard as he put Derek down next to the car. Derek unlocked his side, got in, and reached over to unlock Stiles’ door. Stiles lifted the handle and heard it click open and then all he could think about was sex.

Last weekend, in the driveway of their house after getting home from the restaurant where Derek had popped The Question, Stiles had made Derek keep his hands on the wheel as he sucked him off with the sloppiest blowjob he’d ever given. They wouldn’t risk real road-head given that Derek didn’t want to get caught by any of his co-deputies, or worse, his almost-father-in-law-definitely-boss, but in the car at a standstill? It was still pretty hot.

Remembering that, and nose filled with the scent lingering in the car, Stiles’ cock made it to a decent half-chub even before he managed to slide into the seat. He reached up and over and strapped himself in with the seat-belt and, man.

Short breaths, short breaths.

Derek turned the key and the car came to life. Stiles was glad they only lived about five-minutes drive away. He concentrated on keeping himself from either wolfing-out or simply coming in his pants; the smell and the vibrations of the car were torture.

“How the hell are you not hard, all the time, sitting in here? I mean.” He let himself breathe in properly and decided that what he could smell was not just left over from a few days ago. They didn’t defile the Camaro that often any more; it must be ingrained in the leather. “I am shocked that any other wolf has been in this car, ever. It doesn’t exactly have that new-car-smell.”

Stiles could hear the smile in Derek’s voice. “We just. I suspect they’ve gotten used to it, so can’t really smell it anymore?” He kept his eyes straight ahead as he turned into their driveway. “The same way Scott can work in a vet’s office and not want to vomit every time he walks in.”

That, that made sense, but, “Still.” Stiles thought the vet’s office stank too, but this was, it had to be different, right? “What about for you?” Derek put the car in park and switched the engine off. “Are you used to the smell of this? There must be layers and layers of us getting off in here.”

Derek unclipped his seatbelt and put his hand on the door, ready to open it. He leaned over the gap between the seats and took another kiss. He said against Stiles’ lips, “I’m almost always hard in here, and it’s not because I’m in love with my car.”

And that put Stiles at more of a full-chub, and despite the fact that he was currently in possession of werewolf faculties, the blood-rush south stalled his thinking for long enough that when he blinked again, Derek was out of the car and half-way across the lawn. Stiles heard him speak across the yard, “I can’t wait to see your reaction when you get inside.”

Stiles felt pricks of pain at his finger-tips and looked down to see that he’d popped claws. He blinked a few moments, decided that he really, really wanted to get out of the car without damaging any part of it, breathed out, and watched as they slowly retracted.

It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as painful as he’d thought it might be either. He looked in the rear-view mirror, but he either hadn’t done the eye thing, or had turned it off when he’d pulled in the claws. He jumped out, shut the door carefully, and heard the click of the remote in Derek’s hand before the lights flashed and the alarm beeped.

Derek had the front door open already, and Stiles wasted no time in following his Mate inside.

The _bouquet_ inside was intoxicating. Stiles wasn’t sure if he should drop to his knees and smell the carpet, or head to the sofa and stick his nose in that, or, oh! They gave each other handjobs half-way up the stairs last night, that might still be a hot-spot. He turned to look that way, but Derek reached out and touched the points that had popped from Stiles’ fingertips again.

“This is the animal side of you. It’s actually the easiest thing to control. Humans do it, too.”

Stiles wanted to take a deep breath to help calm himself, but that seemed like it would be the very definition of counter-productive. He closed his eyes and tested the idea of dragging a fang over his lip in his mind, but it was gone by the time he tried.

“Well done, love.” Stiles opened his eyes and looked into Derek’s. They were beautiful, he’d always known that, but they seemed so much more distinct right now. It would probably be a waste of an hour, but he wondered if Derek would let him try to count the colors inside them. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried, of course, but his vision was currently the best it would ever be. “It’s so frustrating not being able to smell what you’re thinking.”

“Even if I could parse the other stuff, all I can smell at the moment is sex.” Which was embarrassing. Stiles wondered if his wolf-circulation-boosted cheeks were more or less pink than they’d usually be.

“Again, it’s the animal side of you, Stiles. Take a deep breath and tell me what else you can smell.”

Stiles thought about closing his eyes again, but instead just looked down while he dragged air in. Sex. Come. Lube. Something sharp but sweet. “The blood oranges you juiced this morning.”

“Animals think about sex and food above just about everything else, so they’re usually the first things we smell. Well done. Now,” he reached and took Stiles’ other hand, too. “What else? Under the sex and citrus, what else is there?”

Stiles watched Derek’s expression as he breathed in then out, then in, and there was something more, he was right. “It’s almost warm. It’s not cinnamon, or nutmeg, but it makes me think of some kind of Christmas cookie or spicy hot-chocolate.”

Derek nodded and leaned in slowly, flicking his gaze up and down between Stiles’ lips and eyes. The scent grew stronger between them. “It’s us.” He kissed Stiles hard and wet, and it seemed obvious now he’d said it.

They tasted the way the room smelled. It was satisfaction and serenity and desire and, even if it was as corny as hell, love, all mixed up into one perfect blend. Stiles felt the rumble in his chest the way he’d felt Derek’s words in the Preserve. It travelled out to his fingers and toes and, he couldn’t deny it, straight into his dick.

“Us.”

Derek twisted their hands a little and raised them so he could put Stiles’ on his waist. “The sex is obviously us, but so is the sweet-spice. And it’s not that I’m one half of that and you’re the other. We blend so well that as a couple we’ve made a distinct paired-scent. It developed almost as soon as we got together.” He breathed in, deeply, possibly trying to catch it with his currently human nose. “No wolf could ever misunderstand that we are together, even if they only meet one of us.”

That had a handful of images flashing through Stiles’ mind: the Alpha from Montana trying to tempt him with humour, the one from Wisconsin bragging about the size of his assets, the Alpha-in-training from South Dakota who kept trying to get Derek to tell her how many children he wanted to have.

This time the growl that came out of his throat was less of a purr and more of a threat, “Mine.” Derek winced, and Stiles saw that this time he’d managed to scratch him. “Shit. I’m so—”

Woah. The pain pulling thing was a trip. The lines in his forearms were tiny, thankfully.

“You’re a natural, love. And you make a stunning Alpha. Show me your hands?” Stiles put them out in front with a little trepidation. He’d long since gotten used to what wolf claws looked like, but seeing them, in focus, in full light, on his own hands? It was difficult. Knowing that he’d just used them to damage Derek? It was horrifying. “A fine set of blades you have here. Now, retract them one by one.”

Stiles hoped his expression made it obvious how ridiculous he thought that request was. “That’s a third moon trick at the earliest. You want me to do it an hour after I got wolfed-up?”

“Third or fourth moon for the average bite, yes. But you’re neither a bite, nor average. You can put a hundred lit candles on a table and put-out a specific one with a blindfold on, Mieczysław Stilinski. Pulling in one of ten claws should be more than easy.” Derek put his fingers around Stiles’ wrists and put Stiles hands up, palms out, at chest height. He smiled at Stiles, then kissed the pad of the pointer finger on Stiles’ right hand. “Start with that one. Pull it in.”

Stiles tried not to frown, but he probably did anyway. Derek looked so damn sure he could do it, and Stiles didn’t want to disappoint him.

He stared at his finger, willing the claw to disappear, but nothing happened. He heard himself make a noise like a whine, breathed out in frustration and just wished it would do what he damn well wanted it to.

It did.

“See?” Derek didn’t look smug, but Stiles wondered if that’s what he could suddenly scent. It suited him. “Now, try this one.” Derek kissed the ring-finger of Stiles left hand. Stiles breathed in, and on the out that claw retracted. He was concentrating so hard on making it happen that it wasn’t even that bizarre to watch. “And this one?”

Derek’s next kiss, on Stiles’ left pinky-finger was wetter, and his scent grew deeper.

Stiles looked at his slightly-damp pinky, then at Derek, then his pinky again, and the claw pulled back.

Derek smirked, and that was no longer a smug smell, that was… Derek lapped at the top of Stiles’ left pointer and Stiles watched the claw retract.

Derek licked a line from the base of Stiles’ right thumb to the bottom of that middle-finger. “This is a very important one.” He started another long, slow lick, and by the time he got his mouth to the top of Stiles’ finger—the one Stiles used if he wanted to make Derek come faster—the finger was one hundred percent human again.

The whine that came out of Stiles’ chest was far less stress, far more desire this time. Derek sucked Stiles’ middle finger in, and Stiles retracted all the claws. Derek swirled his tongue and made figure eights around two fingers, and then dragged his teeth up them to their tips, and followed the movement up by pulsing the tip of his tongue into the webbing between the them.

Stiles’ cock, while it hadn’t softened completely, was now hard and ready and leaking. It was a pretty normal reaction to the man of his dreams fellating his fingers. The way his balls were being pulled tighter than he’d ever experienced and the distinct extra tug at the base of his shaft was not.

 _Holy werewolf-dick-on-human, Batman_.

He blurted out, “Can I knot you?” before his higher cortical functions stopped him.

Derek’s pupils, already wide, flared even further, and his scent went from sex-ee to sex-me. Stiles could smell the separate droplets of pre-come that flowed from each of their slits.

“That’s...” Derek licked his lips.

“Seriously not what the witch had in mind, I know, but I really, really want to suck you off and then fill you up with my come. You always taste fucking amazing and I—”

Derek dropped one of Stiles’ hands and used his own to push Stiles to his knees.

If the scent from a foot above Derek’s cock was amazing, up-close-and-personal was fan-fucking-tabulous. Stiles ran his thumbs over his fingertips and tongue over his teeth, and satisfied he’d not popped-claw or dropped-fang, nuzzled his whole face straight into Derek’s crotch.

It was freaking spectacular. Stiles rubbed his cheek against the denim and the extra scent that the action stirred-up, or caused as Derek got harder? Well, either way, it was mind-expanding, and if he hadn’t realized he had the potential for a knot before he got on his knees, there’d be no question now. The seam of his own jeans was pressed up against his taint, and the pressure felt amazing.

He made short work of pushing Derek’s jeans down and felt slightly light-headed. It was difficult to express, even to himself, just how much _more_ the scent was with every inch closer he got to the source. He kissed Derek’s thigh and put one arm around the back of Derek’s legs to stop him from falling—the way Derek did with him if they didn’t have time to disrobe—and then swallowed Derek down. Derek bucked and Stiles bobbed and twisted and decided that if they were still awake after the knot went down, he’d have Derek fuck his mouth and pull his hair and come all over his face. He corkscrewed and massaged Derek’s foreskin with his tongue and wanted to roll his eyes at how astonishingly good it all was.

Derek’s human-body still had most of the same tells as he got closer to orgasm. He flexed his thighs and his fingers straightened over Stiles’ scalp. His moans were devoid of their usual growl though, and he was saying Stiles’ name over and over again. His back arched and he came with a cry instead of a howl.

He tasted perfectly perfect and Stiles lapped and licked and sucked until Derek pulled at his ear softly to make Stiles look up, “You should take me upstairs and fuck me now, love.” Stiles’ cock jerked and he almost came then and there.

Stiles scooped Derek up and resisted taking the steps two by two. There was a mad scramble of kisses and hands and nibbled-at-nipples and clothes and getting naked and then, when Derek turned and bent over to get the lube out of the side-table, Stiles couldn’t help himself. He had to taste some more.

Derek’s balls were musk and sweat and sweet-spice and when he moaned his muscles relaxed and Stiles dragged his tongue up and fucked it inside Derek’s ass and damn. He loved eating Derek out, he loved making the big, bad Alpha whimper and whine and beg to be filled, and it was no less delightful now that he was the big-bad. He delved his tongue deeper as he urged Derek up onto the bed.

Stiles found the lube without breaking his rhythm. He clicked it open and wow, yeah, the chemical odor wasn’t great; he’d never doubted Derek’s opinion of such things, but wow.

He pulled back and bit lightly at one of Derek’s cheeks. “How do you want us to do this?” he mumbled into Derek’s skin as he found himself rubbing his chin up and down Derek’s ass and the backs of his thighs.

Derek looked over his shoulder and started to twist onto his back. “It would be easier like that, but I want to see it, I want to see you.”

Stiles continued rubbing his face, his scent, into Derek's stomach now. “Do you want to use the chair?”

Derek put his hand between Stiles’ face and his belly button and cupped Stiles’ chin to pull him higher. He kissed Stiles mouth and pulled his legs up around Stiles’ ass. The rough of the hair on his calves was wonderful against Stiles’ soft skin.

“No, no chair. I don’t want to ride you, I want you to fuck me. Fill me up.”

That phrase, hell. Stiles felt his dick seem to swell even further, and the pull of it moved up into his stomach. He needed inside Derek now. “Talk like that and I’ll come before I get in you, babe. It's going to be a short round either way.”

Derek took the lube from Stiles, and it was cold when he squeezed it onto Stiles’ hand.

“Good thing we have all night then, isn’t it? We can test out your werewolf stamina.” He keened as Stiles slipped a finger inside. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’re about to knot me.” Derek smelled more than impressed with the idea as he leaned up and kissed Stiles, fucked his tongue into Stiles’ mouth with the same rhythm as Stiles was fingering him. “Another.” Derek arched his back a little when Stiles found his spot.

“Yeah, fuck.” Derek’s skin was pinker than usual, rose red around his nipples and candy flushed up through his cheeks. He was sweating out longing and want. Stiles wanted to move back, watch his fingers move in and out of Derek, make Derek clutch and moan and weep. He was tempted to try to get Derek to come again before they fucked, but he doubted he’d be able to hold his own orgasm back for that long.

Derek’s cock spurted hopefully, and the way Stiles’ gums itched at the scent had him decide he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat up for a second and coated himself in lube. He lined himself up, and when he looked at Derek for confirmation all he could see was wanton desire.

Derek watched as he pushed inside, and dragged back out. Derek moaned his name and then Stiles had to move. The urge to fuck inside as hard as he could was nigh on undeniable, but the threat of the pricks of pain at his fingertips kept the need in check. Derek pulled Stiles closer with his legs and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ neck and licked into his mouth again and all Stiles could feel was the way they fit together.

It was close to overwhelming, but he didn’t want it to end.

The knot wasn’t a gradual thing; there was the threat, the promise, and then there it was. The flesh around Stiles’ cock was firmer and hotter and Stiles tried to make himself move the way Derek did when it happened to him. He forced himself into making short pulses, rather than long, full thrusts, and found that it didn’t change the pleasure he felt.

Derek pulled away from his mouth and licked at Stiles’ neck and bit down into Stiles skin as he shuddered and, untouched except for the friction of their bellies, came between them. Stiles twisted his hips once or twice more and followed.

The orgasm was, well, orgasms with Derek were mind-blowing, but this was insane. The first wave reached out into every part of his body, and set his heels and ears and nipples alight with pleasure so strong it felt savage. Then it happened again, and again. By the end of it—Stiles lost count of the number of times his hips stuttered and his cock twitched inside Derek—he couldn’t feel his toes.  

He whimpered and slumped, aware that Derek was chuckling under him, but he was too exhausted to make the snarky remark that obviously deserved. He turned his head, instead, and licked at the ticklish spot behind Derek’s ear.

Derek just leaned into it, apparently too fucked out himself to feel anything but good. Stiles eventually nuzzled him instead and breathed in long, slow lungfuls of them together. The mix was as much satisfaction and contentment as it was sex.

The way it felt was almost enough to… No. Stiles wouldn’t ask for the bite unless he was dying. And yet, being able to experience this as a wolf? It was far more compelling than any of the arguments about strength or healing or stamina.

He breathed out and heard himself make the noise that he’d never tell Derek he called a wuffle.

Derek traced a finger down Stiles’ spine. “Are you with me, love?”

Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbows, and then lifted one hand so he could smooth Derek’s hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Always.”

Derek canted his hips and Stiles couldn’t help but moan.

“Good.” He tipped his head and looked at where he’d bitten. “I want to do that again.”

Stiles felt his cock start to harden a little at the thought. “We’ve got a day. So,” he licked his lips, “how about we test my stamina as a wolf, and then when this wears off we do it all again the other way around?”

-

The sun on his skin was wonderful, but it didn’t feel the way it had the morning before. They’d fallen asleep on their sides, Stiles locked inside Derek and their fingers intertwined.

Stiles breathed in, and although he could smell the fact that they’d been in bed for a day and a half, his human nose couldn’t tell him much more. He rolled back over and wrapped his arms around Derek's middle and Derek wuffled in his sleep. Stiles smiled and whispered, “I love you,” and shut his eyes again.

 

 

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> [samanthahirr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthahirr), your prompt said, "Knotting Porn". I'd never written that particular trope, so, well. I now consider that particular writing-cherry popped and double-popped (Triple-double-popped? Sextuple-popped is accurate, and strangely appropriate). I do hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Thank you to [Ishtar12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishtar12) for helping out the random author who said, "Hey, I found your name on the official Sterek Exchange 2017 beta list. How do you feel about 16K of kinda-sorta-just-knotting-porn?" You're wonderful! All mistakes and other associated idiocy are my own.
> 
> Please note that this piece is part of the [Sterek Exchange 2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SterekExchange2017).
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on my (NSFW) [tumblr](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com).


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